


Timeless

by princesskay



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Adult Content, Aging, Angst, Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Smut, Space Husbands, bottom!Kirk, top!spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:23:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3756004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Age is just a number. Spock has ways of making Jim feel young again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timeless

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is staged in the Undiscovered Country era. If you are disgusted or offended by adorable old space husbands going at it, turn back now. If not, please enjoy :D

_Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal,_

_which is to say our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means_

_to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself. - Gabriel Garcia Marquez_

 

__

As Jim Kirk marched down the halls of the The Enterprise, he tugged the shoulder strap of his uniform open, allowing the front flap to fall down his chest. Ignoring the fact that he was still in the hallway, surrounded by crew members, he also unsnapped his belt. At just past 1200 hours Earth time, his quarters were calling him to him; more specifically, his bed was calling to him. 

The aches and pains throughout his body were a reminder that traipsing through the galaxy was for the young, and retirement was all too close.

Jim reached his quarters and quickly slipped inside. As the doors hissed shut behind him, he leaned momentarily against the wall, letting out a low sigh. Twenty years ago he had been able to sit in the captain's chair and perform his duties for two shifts in a row, more if necessary, and still be ready to face off with a Bird of Prey. Those days were long gone.

“You look tired, Jim.”

Jim jerked his head up, startled. Spock's presence in his cabin had slipped his notice, but as he scanned the dark room, he quickly picked out his Vulcan first officer's figure seated in the chair at Jim's desk.

“I'm whipped.” Jim replied, shrugging out of his jacket.

“What can I do?” Spock asked, rising from the chair.

“On Earth, one might ask for a neck rub, but that might be risky for me.” Jim chuckled.

“I will get you some tea from the replicator.” Spock suggested, crossing the room to the device.

“Thank you.” Jim murmured.

He tugged his shirt off over his head and discarded it to the floor. Nudging his boots off with his toes, he sank to the edge of the bed and cradled his head in both hands.

“You should not exert yourself beyond your capabilities.” Spock advised as he carried a steaming cup of tea from the replicator.

“It's my job.” Jim replied, accepting the tea with a smile, “I can't just slack off because I'm getting old.”

“I forget. It is human pride that bars one from requesting help.” Spock said, taking a seat next to Jim.

“That's exactly right.” Jim said, sipping at his tea, “I've been the captain of this ship for twenty years and I will continue to be captain until the day we stand down.”

“The concept of ego eludes me.” Spock replied, moving closer. His breath was warm against Jim's bare shoulder as he added, “However, your sense of honor and strength is fascinating.”

The remark pulled a smile from Jim, “No matter what's happening, you can make me smile.”

Spock dipped his head, “An ability I value.”

Jim turned his gaze to Spock's and lifted a hand to gently run his fingertips through Spock's hair, “As a Vulcan, you age so much slower than me. Why stand down when the rest of us do?” He asked, quietly.

“I would not continue without my shipmates.” Spock replied, “We have been side-by-side for many years. It is a principle of loyalty and honor.”

“Of course.” Jim murmured.

“There are many other positions I can channel my abilities into.” Spock added, “Perhaps I will follow my father as an ambassador.”

“You would make a great ambassador.” Jim replied, kissing Spock's mouth softly, “You understand us more than you know.”

“I understand you are distracted by this concept of aging.” Spock said, directly, “It is illogical, Jim. Every species, whether human or alien, ages. It is a natural, unavoidable facet of life.”

Jim sighed and rose from the bed. Setting his teacup on the desk, he glanced across the room at the mirror in the vanity.

“You won't understand until you start seeing the gray hair.” Jim replied, running his fingertips through his hair.

“It is illogical, to be concerned with something so trivial as hair color.” Spock replied, frowning.

“It's not the color. It's what it symbolizes.” Jim replied, “Old age means retirement, sedentary life, uselessness, senility …”

“That is not necessarily true.”

“Starfleet has been my life since I joined the Academy at nineteen.” Jim said, shuffling closer to the mirror to gaze into his own reflection, “Back then, it seemed like I had my whole life to travel the galaxy and make my accomplishments. Now that I'm here, most of the things I found important back then don't matter nearly as much now.”

“Are you concerned you have made the wrong choices?” Spock asked.

“No, I'm proud of my accomplishments in Starfleet.” Jim replied, “It's just … I wish I had more time to discover all these things I didn't realize until just recently.”

Spock was silent, but Jim could hear him pondering, perhaps confused by human musings.

Jim drew hand over his haggard expression, allowing his fingertips to fall down his chest and stomach.

“I'm not as young as I used to be. Not as fit or agile.” He said, quietly, “I miss the energy, the excitement, the naivety.”

Rising from the bed, Spock came up behind Jim and laid his hands on Jim's shoulders. Jim closed his eyes as Spock rested his mouth against Jim's ear, his breath sweet and warm.

“You are the same man I served under for twenty years, Jim. The same man I ignored logic for; the same man, the only man, I have ever allowed myself to love. That will never change, even if your body does.”

“You still think I'm beautiful, Spock?” Jim whispered, not opening his eyes.

“Yes. Perhaps more now than ever before.”

“You mean that?”

“I would not lie to you.”

Jim's heart squeezed in his chest. Turning to face Spock, he wrapped his arm around Spock's middle and pressed his face into the warmth of Spock's shoulder.

“You treat me too well.”

Spock laid a hand on Jim's back and lifted the other to cradle the back of his head.

“I treat you just as you deserve.” He replied, kissing Jim's temple, “With the respect, honesty, and care you have earned from me.”

Jim lifted his head, biting back a smile, “Spock, my body aches; don't make me cry as well.”

Spock arched a brow, “Very well. Allow me to soothe it.”

Jim smirked, “Soothe it how?”

Spock stroked the backs of his fingers over Jim's cheek and planted a quick kiss against his inquiring lips.

“I have been absent from your bed for five days. I find it unacceptable.” Spock informed.

“I have duties. Are you blaming me?” Jim asked with a wry smile.

“Of course not. I'm stating simple facts.”

“All right.” Jim said, his smile growing, “Let's change the facts, then.”

They both moved at once, their lips meeting halfway. The kiss began soft and intimate, their lips caressing and tasting, before building to a panting, wet mess of saliva and exchanging tongues. Jim clutched the front of Spock's uniform as his limbs turned weak with the sudden rush of adrenaline and arousal. Worrisome thoughts slipped away as Spock's arms gathered him close and his lips claimed Jim's over and over again.

Jim was breathless when Spock's lips finally let up. He swallowed convulsively as fresh need burst throughout his body, heating his core to molten arousal. Spock led them to the bed and Jim eagerly allowed himself to be pushed down to the mattress.

Fingers fast and efficient, Spock unbuttoned his jacket and removed his shirt in a matter of moments. Kicking his boots off, he rushed on to his pants, working the fastenings open with steady hands. Jim mirrored his actions, removing his pants as quickly as he could with his own trembling fingers. When his cock cleared his pants and boxers, it stood almost fully erect and throbbing with rushing, hot blood. 

Above him, Spock stood naked with his erection in his palm. He stroked it softly while watching Jim with dark, fiery eyes. Jim sucked on his lower lip, holding a whine of desire at bay. Watching Spock touch himself was torture as his body cried out for that familiar caress on his naked skin. He wanted to sit up and pull Spock down on top of him; but he knew he would be promptly pushed back down and told to wait patiently.

Taking the lube from Jim's bedside table, Spock crawled onto the mattress. Looming over Jim, he bent to impart another long, lustful kiss over Jim's swollen, panting lips. His hands smoothed down Jim's body, taking heed of every curve and tender spot that made Jim squirm and moan. When he reached Jim's thigh, he slipped his hand between them and drew his fingertips up the length of Jim's cock, drawing a shudder from Jim's body.

“Ahh, Spock.” Jim moaned, his hips arching up against the feathery touch.

Spock's hand quickly darted away, taking a path back up Jim's ribs and shoulders. His fingers latched suddenly to Jim's wrists, pinning them to the mattress. His mouth pressed harder, taking Jim's mouth deeply and passionately with gentle scrapes of his teeth and long swipes of his tongue. Jim moaned, squirming under Spock's weight and begging for more.

Even after all these years it didn't take much for Spock to get him going; it was the length of foreplay they so often disagreed on. Jim was constantly fighting a losing battle against Spock's strength of will and patience.

The moment Spock's mouth let up, Jim began to moan, “Spock, come on. I'm ready.”

“Calm yourself.” Spock replied with a rare, brief smile.

He ducked his head, plucking one of Jim's nipples into the moist heat of his mouth.

“Ahh, Spock!” Jim objected, bucking against Spock's body, “Come on, I need you in me.”

Spock sucked thoroughly on the hard nipple before releasing it with a wet smack that made Jim's flesh tingle.

“Your body is aching.” Spock reminded him with an arched brow, “Perhaps it would be wise not to thrash to and fro.”

“I'll thrash as I please.” Jim replied through clenched teeth, “And I'll enjoy the aches when you finally put your big, hard cock in me.”

Spock's fingers tightened around Jim's wrists as he bent to lay a series of kisses down Jim's cheek and neck. His breath blasted hot against Jim's sweaty skin, his tongue flicking out to taste the exhilaration on him.

“When I say.” Spock amended, just as he closed his mouth around the side of Jim's neck.

His lips suctioned about a particularly sensitive portion of flesh just under Jim's jawline, wringing a strangled cry and spasm from Jim.

“Spock!” Jim moaned, arms lunging against Spock's grip.

Spock's lips released his flesh, only to move lower for another untouched patch of skin. He sucked down hard, so hard Jim wondered if he was leaving dark hickeys behind. He had no sense to be worried about crew members seeing those marks; he could only writhe and moan as Spock inflicted sweet torture on his body.

At last, Spock lifted his head and slowly withdrew his hands from Jim's wrists.

“You're a mean bastard, Spock.” Jim panted, flexing his wrists and lowering one hand to touch his hard cock, “Look what you're doing to me.”

“Turn onto your stomach.” Spock ordered, ignoring Jim's remark.

“Yes, sir.” Jim replied with a sly smile.

Rolling onto his stomach, he situated the pillows underneath him and cast a suggestive gaze over his shoulder at Spock. 

Flipping the cap open, Spock tilted the bottle a few inches above Jim's body and drizzled cool, slick liquid down his tailbone and cleft. Jim swallowed back a moan as the abundant amount of lube poured down slid down between his ass cheeks, followed by a gentle swipe of Spock's fingers.

“Mm, Spock.” He murmured, dropping his forehead to the mattress.

Spock's fingers massaged firmly against his hole, sparking pleasure low in Jim's stomach. His cock throbbed between the sheets and his stomach, already aching for release.

The older he got, the thinner his patience grew; he wanted to moan at Spock to hurry the hell up, but he already knew the kind of response he would get. He couldn't ruffle Spock, no matter how well they knew each other. He could only fight back his groans of frustration and desire as Spock methodically worked Jim's muscles to relaxation.

A sharp gasp left his lips when Spock breached him with one finger. The digit squirmed into him, all the way to the knuckle, stimulating him but not enough to soothe the fire burning inside him. He pushed his hips back against Spock's hand, begging for the friction and pleasure Spock's hand could provide. He was rewarded by Spock's fingers moving in and out of him, finding a rhythmic pumping action.

Writhing, Jim muffled his moans into the sheets. Spock's finger seemed to shoot electricity into his body, the kind that made his arousal scream for release.

“Spock, more.” Jim gasped, lifting his face from the sheets, “Please ...”

Spock's hand paused for mere seconds before returning with two long, penetrating fingers. Jim's body arched sharply against the mattress, sparked by the pleasure of Spock's fingers driving into them. They went deep, finding his swollen prostate with ease. They teased the tender spot, their touch far too delicate to satisfy the desire raging through Jim's blood.

Jim groaned, nails dragging across the sheets. Every muscle was clenched and trembling, waiting impatiently on the verge of pleasure that seemed so close, but dangled so far away. Spock held him there, between fiery arousal and the plunge of climax, so long it felt like torture. Jim clenched his jaw so tightly he wondered if his teeth might shatter; frustration rose up his chest and throat, the knowledge that Spock would make it all worth the wait lost somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Spock, please!” Jim burst out, unable to refuse the pressure any longer.

Spock's fingers pumped slowly inside him, even as Spock lowered his head to whisper against Jim's ear, “When I ascertain you are prepared, I will initiate intercourse.”

“I want it now.” Jim whined, “Spock, come on.”

Spock pumped his fingers a little faster, twisting a sharp moan from Jim's lips.

“You are tight, unprepared.” Spock murmured, his breath like a furnace down Jim's inner ear, “I will continue until you are ready.”

“I'm no virgin, Spock. I can handle it; I'm ready now.” Jim insisted.

Spock leaned back, ending the dialogue. Jim attempted to lift his face from the sheets, but Spock's free hand pushed his cheek back against the mattress. Down below, he added a third finger and slowly pressed them all inside. Jim gasped, his body bucking underneath the intense pressure of three fingers stretching him open.

Jim groaned raggedly, his fingers groping across the tangled sheets. His body trembled, so full of desire and arousal, so needy. His cock throbbed uncontrollably, dripping a few sticky, white drops from the swollen, angry red tip.

Spock ...” He moaned.

His hips squirmed against the constant pumping motion of Spock's hand.

“Spock, I'm so hard I'm going to explode.” He panted, turning a pleading gaze over his shoulder.

“That is not possible.” Spock replied, arching a brow, “Through dozens of previous tests, I have determined you shall survive this encounter.”

Jim gave a growl of frustration and punched his fist against the sheets.

“Not if you don't get your cock in me soon!”

“Be still.” Spock murmured, focusing on his three fingers disappearing into Jim's stretched hole, “Be still and enjoy everything I do to you; be aware, not one action is done without purpose or appreciation.”

“I love how you touch me, Spock, but I want-”

“I know everything you want.” Spock assured, “And you will have it in due time.”

Huffing, Jim turned his face back into the sheets. On the Bridge, he was the captain, the one handing out orders, and as a subordinate member of the crew, Spock was swift to obey. Here, inside Jim's quarters, stripped of command and naked except the heat and wet of desire, there was no command he could give to make Spock obey him. He could do nothing now except lie still, enjoy each caress, and wait for Spock to deem him ready.

The pace of Spock's strokes slowed to almost nothing, a maddening massage deep inside. Jim swallowed back the objection rising in his throat and curled his sweating palms around handfuls of the bedsheets. Spock's three fingers curled in a minimal, upward stroke that grazed it's way across Jim's prostate down tender, inner walls.

Gasping quietly, Jim pressed his mouth into the sheets, muffling a low moan. His body began to hum with pleasure, his core turning liquid heat. Climax teased at the fringes of his mind, but lingered far enough away to leave him wheezing oxygen deprived breaths and trembling with anticipation.

“You want to orgasm in this moment.” Spock whispered, his breath invitingly close to Jim's sweat slick neck.

“Y-yes.” Jim choked out, his mind hazed over with pleasure.

“Do not.”

Jim's brows drew tight as the steady stream of rapidly growing pleasure was suddenly broken by concentration. The pleasure was already so close that Spock order affected just the opposite response inside Jim's body. The muscles clamped down tighter, his core beginning to quiver with the precursor of climax.

“Spock!” Jim began to protest in dismay.

Spock's fingers withdrew in a matter of seconds, leaving Jim lying against the sheets in a trembling, sweating mess of aroused flesh.

Panting, Jim rolled onto his back to glare up at his self-satisfied Vulcan mate.

“You better fuck me before I finish this off myself.” He threatened, motioning to his cock which lay hard and throbbing against his stomach.

“Forgive me, I miscalculated the speed at which you might achieve orgasm.” Spock replied, though the tilt of his brow indicated anything but remorse.

“I'm not that old.” Jim retorted, despite the smile creeping across his mouth.

“I would never suggest your genitals are defective; I was simply-”

“Spock!” Jim interrupted, “Didn't you hear me? Get over here before I finish this.”

Smirking, Spock retrieved the lube and uncapped it to douse his own erection with more liquid than necessary. His long, pale fingers curled about the thick shaft, smothering it, and the swollen head, in a layer of gleaming lube. Jim bit eagerly at his lower lip as he watched Spock caress himself, imaging the the feeling of full, throbbing veins pumping just beneath that stretched, velvety flesh.

Laying back against the pillows, Jim lifted his legs as Spock crawled forward. Spock guided his cock to the entrance and immediately pushed fully inside, joining their bodies completely. Jim gasped out, grabbing onto Spock's neck and shoulder. Bracing himself above Jim, Spock began to rock his hips against Jim's ass, plunging his lubed cock deep into the well prepared hole. Despite Spock's superior size, his cock pumped easily into Jim's body with the aid of his sufficient prep and the generous lube. His every thrust caused their bodies to smack together, connecting them at their deepest, most primal centers.

When Spock made love to him, it tapped into a part of Jim that he never expressed to anyone else. There was a vulnerability and yearning for domination that lurked deep in the most hidden parts of his lust that only wrenched free when Spock was thrusting into him.

He had never trusted anyone so implicitly. He had never given his entire being to anyone else. He was pleased to be acquainted with the fact that his trust couldn't be better hands.

When Spock pinned down his grasping hands and exerted only a fraction of his strength about Jim's neck, he didn't protest. He reveled in the pleasure of lowering all defenses, casting aside his pride, allowing himself to be owned entirely.

After so many years as bond mates, it was a pleasing second nature.

Jim squirmed underneath Spock's steady, measured thrusts as his lovers fingertips eased from around his throat to locate the side of his face. Fingertips pressed at his temple, beneath his eye, and lastly his chin. Few seconds lay between reality and the warm, delightful realm that opened before him when their minds fused together. Jim fell happily into the meld, his mind rushing to greet Spock's like an old friend.

Nothing on Earth, no pleasant thing, or attractive woman could compare to the utter satisfaction and intimacy that Jim derived from the mind meld – more specifically, the meld they enjoyed while making love. Reading Spock's thoughts was gratifying enough, but when Jim delved into that beautiful mind whilst it was roiled and disordered with pleasure, he found an image so inconceivably, disastrously perfect that earthly, carnal pleasure nearly fell away into indifference.

The flashes of memory and visions of present pleasure were at the very forefront of Spock's mind, stopping Jim there before he could look any farther. Here lay all the fantasies, desires, and yearning that Spock kept neatly under wraps all day before arriving at Jim's quarters to ravish him with exquisite, yet controlled pleasure. It was perhaps the same array of lust that lay just behind Jim's eyes, but the fascination lay in that Spock could manage that desire without slipping, without once letting the outside world know just how flustered and aroused he may be.

Glimpsing the primal fantasies that lay at the surface of Spock's mind launched Jim into the pleasure that had floated just beyond his reach for the last half hour. White-hot pleasure rushed across his mind like a tidal wave, crushing against the burning red flame of Spock's lust. They collided, two minds sharing pleasure, two bodies entangled in their own world of spasming, quivering, spurting climax.

Jim was swallowed by pleasure so strong, so blinding that the world composed of their connected minds flashed black for several seconds. It flickered back to white for only a few more moments before the strength of their bodily pleasure ripped them apart.

Jim was consumed by the orgasm, but he managed to glimpse one last thought before Spock's mind was entirely out of his reach. He didn't have a second to spare to consider it as the pleasure worked it's way through his body, rushed outward through the tip of his engorged cock. Milky, hot release spilled across his stomach in long, generous spurts, relieving the pressure that had been building for days.

When he finally relaxed against the sheets, his body vibrated with satisfaction, and his limbs lay weak and useless.

Spock slipped out of him with a quiet grunt of satisfaction and settled down against the sheets next to him.

“You sure do know how to make me feel young again.” Jim murmured, reaching over to touch Spock's chest.

“Youth is a state of mind, a level of maturity.” Spock replied, quietly, “Though the body ages, the true value of a being rests in his mind.”

“I know what you're trying to tell me.” Jim replied, glancing over at Spock.

“Explain, if you can.” Spock suggested, disbelieving.

“I saw what you were thinking, right before our minds broke apart.” Jim said, propping himself up on his elbow, “You're worried about me.”

“Worried?” Spock said, raising a brow, “'Simple observation' would suffice.”

“Whatever you want to call it.” Jim said, “I asked you earlier if you still think I'm beautiful; I guess I know the answer now.”

“I was being truthful with you.” Spock confirmed, “Our bodies only define us to some level, Jim. While your appearance may be disconcerting to you as a human, it does not affect me. There is no standard of beauty for the body in Vulcan culture; only the standard of accomplishments and life well lived.”

“I'm glad you think so.” Jim murmured, bending down to kiss Spock's mouth, “Someone else probably would have come at the topic differently.”

“I am not someone else.” Spock pointed out. He drew his fingertips across Jim's cheek, and quietly added, “T'hy'la.”

“I thank the gods everyday that you are not.” Jim smiled.

“Will you cease worrying about it?” Spock asked.

Jim sighed and shook his head, “Unfortunately, humans don't have the mind control that Vulcans do.”

Spock frowned, “If you continue to be concerned with this topic of age, I will continue to be perplexed by it. In my culture, the elderly are respected and admired. It is a good thing to age and mature.”

“The elderly are respected in Earth culture as well.” Jim replied, “It's just that we are also concerned with appearances and beauty. There's always a push for products or surgeries to extend life or appear younger. It's superficial and silly, I know, but it's there all the same.”

“Your remark was honest?” Spock asked, his fingers winding through strands of Jim's hair, “I make you feel younger?”

“You do.” Jim smiled, “Everything is brighter and more optimistic when I am with you.”

“Then I will not cease until these worrisome thoughts have vacated your mind.” Spock whispered.

Rising up from the sheets, he pressed his mouth against Jim's and pushed Jim back against the pillows. Jim clutched onto Spock's hair, returning the kiss with fervor. From that moment on, Spock was true to his word; Jim's thoughts shed the worry and care behind them as they wound together in an intimate embrace. Graying hair and aching body had no place in a world of eternal love, acceptance, and bliss.

 

~the end

 

 


End file.
